Irreparable Damage I: Separation Anxiety
by katie janeway
Summary: Rating is for future chapters. Coping comes differently to everyone, as Nancy is soon to find out. Not even the Hardys can support her this time, as Nancy struggles to solve this problem on her own.
1. The Usual Complaint

**Please Read…Please Read…Please Read…Please Read…Please Read…**

**Disclaimer:** Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys are property of Simon and Schuster. I have never owned them, do not own them, and will never own them. They are simply being borrowed for the _Irreparable Damage_ series, and will be returned.

Any plot similarities to Fox's _24_ are not entirely coincidental, as certain actions of Day 4 have influenced how later events in _Irreparable Damage_ (mostly those in the fourth part) play out. It should be noted, however, that I have added my own twists, but I do thank the writers of _24_ for providing inspiration on how to handle certain situations.

**Author's Note:** _Irreparable Damage_ is not a pleasant series. The fanfictions within, five in all, will vary in rating and severity. No fiction involved, however, will go below a PG rating.

Nancy Drew and the Hardys will be forced to face their limits, and they will not emerge unscathed. Troubled waters lie ahead, though the fanfictions have their lighter moments as well.

Some of the actions undertaken by the characters are harsh. I have tried to be as realistic and honest as possible regarding these issues, though I admit to having no first-hand experience with these matters. I have researched as best I can. What I could not research, my imagination provided, so please, **please** do not take my words as the final say on any subject broached in the series.

You have been warned. If you still feel ready to continue, do not later flame me for what I do with the characters. If something is drastically incorrect, however, with the exception of legal issues, as Nancy and the boys have been known to ignore them, I will accept constructive criticism, through reviews or email. If the series is still being posted when I get back to school, then the option of IM through Yahoo or MSN will be available as well.

I can promise this: At no point in the _Irreparable Damage_ series will Nancy, Frank, or Joe be eliminated.

**For "Separation Anxiety" only – **I realize that the title downplays things a bit…please don't kill me for it. Chapter 1 is a bit short, but future chapters will be longer.

**Thank you** to TesubCalle for being my beta….I don't know how she manages to keep track of all the random bits I send her, but she does.

* * *

**August 1**

Ned sat across from her, waiting patiently as she finished up her phone conversation with Chief McGinnis. After saying good-bye, Nancy turned her phone off, and looked apologetically at him.

"I hate to cut this short, but Chief McGinnis wants me down at the station."

"Is something wrong?" he asked worriedly.

"No, nothing personal." She shrugged. "And it may actually be nothing at all. Mrs. McGreevy just reported her husband missing; she seems to think he was kidnapped." Standing, she moved around the table to give him a quick peck. "Anyways…the chief wants me to check it out – the police can't divert resources to it at the moment."

"So you're going to go down there now?" Ned had a strange expression on his face, one Nancy couldn't read.

"If it is kidnapping, I'd rather solve it sooner than later."

"It's our anniversary dinner, Nancy! I actually cooked for tonight, and you're breaking it off early for a case!"

"Ned, I'm sorry, but this is important-"

"You just said it may be nothing!"

He had a point, she had to admit, and she could understand he was upset, but, "I only said 'maybe.' So it could also be something."

He sighed. "So of course, you're going to go."

"Ned, I'm sorry, I really am. But you know I have to do this. Look," and she placed a hand on his arm. "We can do this tomorrow night, ok?"

"If it is a case, you know you'll be too distracted to do this tomorrow night," he mumbled.

"What's that supposed to mean?" She demanded, placing her hands on her hips.

"You know what I mean, Nancy!" he cried exasperatedly. "You do this to me every time and I can't take it anymore!"

"Do what?"

"Push me aside the minute a case comes up! I can't tell you how many dates you've missed or been late to, how many special evenings we have planned that turn into our investigating something, because I've lost count! I'm tired of it!"

"Ned-"

"I swear, Nancy…sometimes I think you love detecting more than you love me."

"Ned, that isn't true." She glanced at her watch, and gasped. "I've got to get going! Chief McGinnis wanted me there ten minutes ago!" Noting Ned's expression, she sighed. "Look, we'll discuss it tomorrow, ok?" Without waiting for a response, she rushed out to her blue Mustang parked in the driveway. As she started it up and headed off down the street, she hoped Chief McGinnis would forgive her tardiness.

**_

* * *

_**Later that evening, she drove home, exhausted. Mrs. McGreevy had been hysterical the entire time that Nancy had questioned her, which made getting answers a tedious task. She'd eventually just had to tell the older woman to go home and rest, and call her if her husband didn't return the next day. When she turned into her driveway, Nancy breathed a sigh of relief. She couldn't wait to go upstairs and sleep. 

Walking in the front door, she noticed the answering machine blinking. Hitting the play button, she frowned as the messages cycled through. The first two were ads; she'd delete them in a minute or two. The third was Mrs. McGreevy, calling to simply double-check the number and to tell Nancy that Hank never, _ever_ went away without leaving her a note at least, and the last was Ned. She bit her lip as she listened to the message, hitting 'repeat' when it was done.

"Nancy, it's me. I'm guessing you're still at the station. If it's too late to call when you come home, well…We need to talk. You probably agree with me, after tonight…and, I didn't say this before, but…happy third anniversary. I guess. I'll, uh…I'll drop your gift by tomorrow. We can talk then, ok? Bye."

_I shouldn't have run out on him,_ she chided herself. _I could've waited until after dinner. Chief would've understood._ But her detective half warred with her, reminding her that every minute in a kidnapping case was precious.

Wondering what on earth she was going to say when she saw Ned the next day, she wearily climbed the stairs to bed.


	2. I'm Just A Popular Girl

**August 2**

The next morning, Nancy was awakened bright and early by the sound of her phone. Grumbling, she crawled out of bed in time to hear her father call out, "Nancy? It's for you!"

"Okay!" she called down. "I'll get it in a minute!" Yawning, she reached for the receiver, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "Hello?" she mumbled.

"Nancy! You didn't return my call!"

"I'm sorry, Mrs. McGreevy…I returned home after eleven, and I assumed you didn't want to be called at such a late hour."

"Nonsense! Call me at any time! My Hank's life may depend on your reaching me, so I'll be by the phone as often as I can."

"Great." Oh, how she hated it when people did this. It made it impossible to get real work done, they wanted updates so often.

"Now, dear, what time were you coming over?"

"Coming…over?" Nancy woke up in a hurry. Had she actually made plans to go to the woman's house? Searching her memory, she came up blank. She did remember telling her to call if her husband didn't show, but…

"Well, of course, dear! You need to investigate the scene of the crime!"

Nancy pinched her nose, growling inwardly. "Mrs. McGreevy," she said, trying to remain calm. "I don't think that's necessary just yet. Hank hasn't even been missing a full day. It's possible he'll come home safe and sound this afternoon. Why don't you give me a call tonight if he hasn't shown, and until then, just try to act like it's a normal Saturday, okay?"

"Okay…" the other woman sounded doubtful. "Do you really think he'll be home this afternoon?"

"I certainly think it's a possibility…if not, we'll go from there."

"…All right. Thank you." With a click, the conversation was over, leaving Nancy staring at the phone in exasperation. Sighing, she realized it was now not worth going back to bed – she wouldn't be able to sleep.

* * *

Half an hour later, she was sitting at the breakfast table with her father and Hannah, discussing Mrs. McGreevy's situation. 

"You say she's an older woman?" Nancy nodded, so Carson thought for a moment. "It's possible she feels insecure without her husband around."

"Well, at least this case seems to be relatively tame…is Ned going to help you with it, Nancy?" Hannah inquired.

"Uh, well…"

"Come to think of it, last night was your anniversary, right? I hope you two got to finish your dinner before the Chief called you in."

"Actually…"

The phone rang again, and Nancy jumped to get it. _Saved by the bell_, she thought with relief as she lifted the receiver. But the relief was short-lived.

"Hello?"

"Nancy!"

"Mrs. McGreevy…" _What now?_ she wondered.

"Was there a time I should call you if Hank doesn't show up today?"

Nancy thought for a moment. "How about ten o'clock?" she suggested. "If he isn't home by then, call me and we'll make plans for me to come over and investigate."

"Okay, dear." Mrs. McGreevy hung up. Nancy briefly wondered if that would be the last call of the day, before deciding not to worry about it. She needed to call Ned back, and apologize again for the previous night. She dialed the number, holding her breath until she heard his groggy voice on the other end.

"H'lo?"

"Ned? It's Nancy."

"Nancy!" He sounded instantly more awake.

"I got your message."

"Oh…yeah. So…what time should I come by?"

"Anytime this afternoon is fine…and maybe after we talk, we can reheat that dinner you made…it smelled delicious."

"My dad ate part of it last night for a midnight snack."

"Oh…well, we could go out then. My treat."

She heard him sigh on the other end. "Maybe…let's just see how things turn out this afternoon, okay?"

"Okay."

"I'll be by around three."

"That's fine."

They said their goodbyes, and hung up. Nancy stared at the phone in her hand for a moment, before returning the receiver to the cradle. Biting her lip, she glanced at the clock and realized she had six hours until Ned arrived. She needed a way to waste time, to distract herself from the odd twisting sensation in her stomach, so she decided to organize her limited information on the McGreevy case.

* * *

Six hours later, not only was the McGreevy case organized, but so were the rest of her files. Nancy had just finished placing the last folder into the filing cabinet when the doorbell rang. She rushed down the stairs, and opened the door. Ned stood there, holding a small wrapped box in his hand. He smiled briefly at her appearance. 

"You were organizing case files again, weren't you?"

"How could you tell?"

"Your hair's pulled back in a ponytail."

"I do that a lot."

"But not," he said, reaching forward. "Wearing one of these as well." And he pulled off the headband she'd used to keep stray hair out of her eyes.

"Oh…" She laughed momentarily. "I guess you know me pretty well."

"Yeah…I guess so." He cleared his throat. "Are you going to invite me in or were you planning to open your gift here on the porch?"

"Oh! Sorry," Nancy exclaimed as she moved aside so he could step in. "If you give me a minute, I'll go get your present..." He nodded, so she rushed upstairs to her room.

_Where is it?_ she thought frantically, pulling out her drawers and rifling through her closet. It wasn't that she didn't have a gift…she just couldn't remember where she'd put it last night, she'd been so busy worrying about the case and talking to Ned today…Finally, she spotted it, tucked carelessly behind the bed. She grabbed it up, made sure it was indeed his present, and hurried back down the steps.

She found him waiting for her in the living room. "Didn't mean to make you wait so long," she said. Ned just shrugged.

"I'm used to it," he said, and she flinched rapidly as she realized the depth of his words. Wordlessly, she handed his gift to him, accepting his in return.

Paper rustled, and they both withdrew their gifts.

"Oh, Ned," she breathed, removing a simple silver locket from its box and admiring it, "Thank you."

He smiled. "You were so upset to discover your old one missing, I knew you would like to have another."

Nancy leaned over and kissed his cheek. "You're exactly right. Do you like your gift?"

Ned grinned. "I'm never too old for a trading card, especially when it's autographed by my favorite athlete. I'm amazed you could get this!"

"Well…" she hedged. She didn't want to admit that she'd only managed to get it because the athlete in question owed her a favor since she'd solved a case for him. "I have my means."

She was prevented from saying more when he gave her a thank-you kiss. "I really appreciate this, Nancy."

"No problem," she said, as he fastened her new locket around her neck. "Now...you wanted to talk?"

For a moment, conflicting emotions flickered across his face. Finally, he sighed. "I do…but I don't want to spoil the mood. We can talk about us later. How about you fill me in on your new case instead?"

Nancy rolled her eyes. "I'm not so sure it is a case. Mrs. McGreevy swears that her husband never leaves the house without either telling her or writing her a note. He's been missing less than 24 hours, but as there was no note, Mrs. McGreevy is certain that he's been kidnapped or worse. She's already called me three times since I interviewed her yesterday, and-"

The phone rang, interrupting her. "Excuse me," she said to Ned, and he nodded. She crossed the room to answer the phone.

"Hello?"

"Nancy! Hank still hasn't returned! It's now four o'clock – almost twenty-four hours since he disappeared!" Irma McGreevy's voice sounded frantic over the phone. "Can't you investigate now?"

"I'm sorry, Mrs. McGreevy, but I can't."

"Why not?" asked the older woman, her voice rising in pitch. "My Hank could be hurt or trapped with some horrible criminals!"

Nancy sighed, adjusting the phone so she could speak better. "Mrs. McGreevy, the law technically requires you wait a full day before reporting an individual missing."

"But I was allowed to report it last night!"

"Yes. The River Heights police department tends to be more lax, as we're a much smaller area. But I'd still like to wait a full day, just to be sure."

"Oh…well, if you think it would be best…"

"I do," Nancy stated firmly. "Wait until ten o'clock tonight. That gives Hank slightly more than a day. If he's not home by then, call me, just as we agreed earlier."

"Alright, then, dear. I promise not to call you again until ten o'clock."

"Goodbye, Mrs. McGreevy."

"Goodbye, dear."

"Sounds like she's really worried," Ned commented as Nancy hung up.

"Yes…and I can understand that…but I do wish she wouldn't call so often." Running a hand through her hair, she added, "I really don't want to think any more about the case at the moment." She glanced at the clock. "It's a bit early for dinner, so how about we catch a movie, and then dinner? It's quality together-time, and as Mrs. McGreevy doesn't have my cell number, I can guarantee we won't be interrupted."

"Sounds good," Ned said, rising from his seat. "And," he added, his eyes twinkling. "I seem to recall your statement from earlier – I do believe you promised that this dinner is on you."

She smiled at him as they walked to the door. "And a Drew always keeps her word."

* * *

Nancy returned home at about six o'clock that evening, in a wonderful mood. The movie had been entertaining, and dinner was simply amazing. She and Ned had gone to a new restaurant in town that promised great food, reasonable prices, casual dress, and a romantic atmosphere. It had certainly lived up to the promise; Nancy couldn't remember having such a great dinner date with Ned in a long time. _Come to think of it,_ she realized. _We haven't had an actual dinner date in a long time – not one where it's just us, anyway, without a case distracting me or causing an interruption._ Indeed, they had stayed well away from discussing detective work at all, and Nancy grimaced when she realized she once more had to get into the detective mindset – Mrs. McGreevy had called yet again.

She was spared making a call, however, by Hannah. The Drews' housekeeper poked her head out of the kitchen just as Nancy was about to dial the number.

"I know you already ate, Nancy, but how about helping me decide what to make for dinner anyway?"

"Sure." Nancy wandered into the kitchen, grateful for the interruption. "Why's dinner so late?"

"Your father had a late lunch meeting with a client today, so I decided to push dinner back." Hannah surveyed the contents of the refrigerator critically. "What do you think of honey glazed chicken breast with peas…and, hmm…chocolate cake for dessert?"

"I think I should've just had Ned over dinner instead of going out, is what I think."

Hannah smiled. "I'll make sure to save some back – nothing wrong with leftovers for lunch tomorrow." She pointed to the cabinets. "Now, how about you get out the cake ingredients and start mixing? I'll take care of the chicken."

"Deal." Nancy reached for a mixing bowl and spoon.

* * *

Of course, cooking dinner with Hannah didn't take very long, so soon enough Nancy once more was holding the phone receiver in her hand. Sighing, she dialed the number. 

"Hello?"

"Hello, Mrs. McGreevy."

"Oh, Nancy, dear! I was wondering…"

"Yes, I'll come over now." _Otherwise, she'll just keep calling_.

"Oh, good. Well, then, do you have my address?"

"If you'll hold a moment, I'll check." Nancy set the receiver down carefully, and went to get her purse. Pulling a small notebook from it, she flipped through until she found what she wanted. She returned to the phone. "Yes, I have it. I can be there in about ten minutes."

"Thank you, dear. I'll see you in ten minutes then!"

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Nancy parked in front of a two-story brick house that was set slightly farther from the street than its neighbors. Mrs. McGreevy stood on the porch, waving a thin arm at Nancy. 

"You're late, dear!" the older woman called as Nancy made her way up the flower-lined walk.

"Yes, I'm sorry. Traffic held me up for a moment or two."

"Well, at least you're here now. Come on in!"

Nancy followed the woman through the doorway into a small foyer area. Wooden floorboards creaked under her feet as she followed Mrs. McGreevy through a short, narrow hallway into a brightly lit kitchen.

"Have a seat, dear, please." Mrs. McGreevy indicated a breakfast nook with two chairs and a small table. Nancy slid into one of the chairs.

"Lemonade, dear?"

"No, thank you."

"What about water? Iced tea? Cranberry juice?"

"Just water, thanks." As Mrs. McGreevy scurried about the kitchen preparing a glass of ice water for her, Nancy took the time to survey her surroundings.

The McGreevy kitchen was small, but meticulously clean. Nancy couldn't see a stray crumb anywhere, and the garbage was not visible. She could only assume it was kept in the cabinet under the sink, or in the small pantry, out of sight.

The kitchen appeared to have three doorways. One led to the hallway they'd just walked down. Another led to a small dining room and sitting area. The third appeared to be the back door of the house.

Mrs. McGreevy set a glass of ice water before her, and slid into the seat across from her in the breakfast nook. "Tell me about Mr. McGreevy," Nancy said, taking a small sip of her water. "Did he prefer any particular room in the house, or have any afternoon pastimes?"

"Oh, Hank usually just sat in the family room watching TV most afternoons. He loved to watch those documentaries and such on the History Channel. Occasionally, of course, he'd do something different on a weekday afternoon, but if he was going to leave home, he always left a note for me in case he wasn't back by the time I got home from the Women's Club."

"What sort of things would he leave for?"

"Oh, occasionally a friend or two would stop by and ask him out for a drink…Hank so rarely went drinking with friends, I never stopped him, though at his age…" Mrs. McGreevy frowned in disapproval. "And sometimes he went to help our daughter, Abigail, with home repairs."

"You have children, Mrs. McGreevy?"

"Yes, three. One son, Timothy, and two daughters, Abigail and Trixie. They're all grown now, of course. Abigail is in advertising, Trixie is a teacher, and Timothy…well, I can't say I approve of his career; he could've put that history major of his to good use, but…he works for a company that designs those scratch lottery games, you know of those?" Nancy nodded. "He doesn't get paid much, but he seems happy, so I guess it's for the best, though I do wish he'd found something more respectable."

"Is it possible that Mr. McGreevy could've gone to visit one of your children?"

"No, he would've left a note. And even if he hadn't, the children would have called if their father had come to visit."

"May I have your children's contact information, Mrs. McGreevy?" Nancy asked. Mrs. McGreevy shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

"Why do you need to speak to them, dear?"

"Just in case your husband does contact one of them, and also to learn if they know of anywhere else your husband may have gone."

"Oh. Well. My children are very private people. And," Mrs. McGreevy gave a nervous cough. "To be honest, Abigail and I aren't exactly close anymore. She seems to feel that I stifle her."

_Wonder why,_ Nancy thought sarcastically. Outwardly, she put on a sympathetic expression and queried about the nature of Mrs. McGreevy's relationships with her other children. To her surprise and relief, the other children got on a bit better with their mother than their sister.

After some coaxing, Mrs. McGreevy wrote down the information Nancy needed. "Thank you, Mrs. McGreevy," Nancy said as she tucked the paper into her purse. She glanced at her watch. "How about a tour of the downstairs area, and we'll call it a night, okay?"

The tour really didn't provide Nancy with any additional clues about the case, but she noticed Mrs. McGreevy visibly relaxing as she explained the histories of some of the furniture items downstairs.

* * *

After saying good night for the evening, Nancy moved down the front walk as quickly as she could. The moment she was in her car and headed home, she breathed a sigh of relief. People like Mrs. McGreevy were fine in small doses, as far as Nancy was concerned, but longer stretches of time were like torture. 

A small part of her felt guilty for it, viewing Mrs. McGreevy in such a light. But people like that had grated Nancy's nerves since she was young; her tolerance of the woman now was a skill acquired only after several years of practice.

Once she was home, Nancy immediately got ready for bed. Her time spent at the McGreevy home had been exhausting. _I only hope her children are a little easier to tolerate_, she thought as she tumbled into bed. _Well,_ she mused, yawning as she did so, _guess I'll find out tomorrow_.

* * *

**

* * *

A/N: A beta is someone who reviews the story for you before it goes up, to check for spelling/grammar/plot errors and offer suggestions on how to correct them. **


	3. Family Problems

**A/N: I'd like to thank Starsong Leannan for looking over these chapters as well...without her and TesubCalle to bother me on this, who knows how long it'd take me to get chapters organized?**

**Also, for those who might be wondering, not all chapters will be just one day's activities. That's simply how it's playing out at the moment.**

* * *

**August 3**

"Hello, is this Timothy McGreevy?" Nancy asked over the phone the next day.

"Yeah, it is. But if you're selling something, I don't want it." The voice on the other end sounded bored.

"No, I'm not selling anything. My name is Nancy Drew, and your mother asked me to look into the disappearance of your father."

"Oh." There was a pause. "Well, I don't think I'll be much help. I haven't seen Dad in a couple of weeks."

"Anything you can tell me about your father would be a help, Mr. McGreevy," Nancy said, switching the phone to her other ear. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Hannah coming down the hallway, with an upset look on her face. Nancy knew what that look was for – she'd skipped breakfast to make the phone call.

_I'll make it up to you,_ she mouth as the housekeeper passed, as she waited for Timothy McGreevy to speak on the other end. "Mr. McGreevy?"

"First of all," he said in a tired voice, "don't call me that. I'm only twenty-six; my father's the Mr. McGreevy in the family. Call me Tim."

"Okay, Tim…is there anything you can tell me about your father that might help explain why he disappeared?"

The young man on the other end laughed. "Of course I could. But it's so obvious I'm surprised you didn't pick up on it yourself. After all, most people who spend more than five minutes with my mother start to feel smothered."

"And you're saying that's why your father disappeared?"

"Well, I wouldn't blame him for it, if it is his reason. I mean, I'm surprised it took him this long. I always figured he just stuck around because of us, so we wouldn't grow up to be like her."

"If that's the case, why didn't he divorce her?" Nancy asked, her curiosity piqued.

"Oh, Dad's the non-confrontational type. And he probably felt guilty, seeing as how-"

Nancy, sensing this conversation was about to go into even more sensitive territory, interrupted. "Shouldn't this conversation be continued in person?"

"Oh, yeah. Guess so. Tell you what…I'll meet you at the Perkins on Fifth Street. And I'll tell my sisters to come along, too. That way you can question us all at once."

"Alright. When would you like to meet?"

"I'll call you when I've figured out a time."

Nancy frowned. She didn't like not knowing when things were supposed to happen; it made scheduling her day difficult. Still, this might be her best chance to interview all three McGreevy children, and she wasn't going to turn it down. "Alright."

"Great! Talk to you later, then." And Timothy McGreevy hung up.

* * *

True to his word, Timothy McGreevy called when he and his sisters had arranged a time. And so, at four pm, Nancy was on her way to the appointed Perkins. 

When she arrived, she was surprised to find the McGreevy children waiting outside for her. She wouldn't have recognized them at first, but it helped that Tim was holding a sign that said "McGreevy son", and his two sisters were glaring at him.

"Hello," the tall, sandy-haired, green-eyed young man greeted Nancy as she joined them. "I realized that unless Mom gave you photos of us, we'd be a bit hard to recognize. So I thought I'd help you out." He held up the sign. "But now, we don't need it, so…" He tossed the sign into a nearby garbage can, and held out his hand. "I'm Tim McGreevy. Nice to meet you."

"Nancy Drew," she said, taking the proffered hand. "Nice to meet you, too."

"These lovely ladies on either side of me are my sisters, Abigail" he motioned to the woman on his left, who extended her hand as well.

"Call me Abby," she said smiling.

"And Trixie," Tim said, pointing to the woman on his right. Nancy offered her hand, but Trixie ignored it. "Don't worry about that – Trix is shy, aren't you, sis?" Tim asked, giving his sister a one-armed hug. Trixie gave him a tight-lipped smile.

"Let's go inside, shall we?" Nancy suggested.

* * *

When they'd been seated and their orders taken, Abby recommended getting to know each other a bit better before Nancy began interviewing them. Everyone agreed, and within a few moments, Nancy had a wealth of information on the McGreevy children. 

Timothy was the eldest, at the age of twenty-six. As his mother had said, he was a history major who'd decided to spend his time creating scratch lotto games. He was also a runner, which was evident in his lean but muscular frame. His relationship with his parents was fine, provided his mother didn't try to lecture him on changing careers or cutting his hair, which grew to his chin in a messy arrangement.

Abigail and Trixie were twin sisters, Abby being the elder of the two by three minutes. They were twenty-four, and serious professionals. Though they were both dark-haired, blue-eyed, and curvy, Abby taller than Trixie. She stood as tall as Nancy, at 5'7", while Trixie seemed to be about two inches shorter.

Trixie was the family peacemaker, standing between her siblings and parents as necessary. Abby was apparently frequently at odds with their mother, since Mrs. McGreevy often felt the need to check up on her children – something Abigail believed to be an invasion of privacy.

In exchange, Nancy told them of her previous detecting experience and some of her own family history. When she was finished, Tim placed an arm on the table and leaned forward.

"Well, now that all the pleasantries have been exchanged, let's get down to business, shall we?" However, the waitress interrupted, bringing their steaming dishes to the table. Everyone thanked her, though each was quite eager for her to vacate the area.

Once the waitress was gone, Nancy fixed Tim with her best detective gaze. "How about you continue to tell me about what you mentioned on the phone?"

"Well, as I was saying, Dad's probably feeling guilty, which is why he never divorced Mom. See, back when they first got married-"

"Tim, do you really think she needs to know this?" Trixie interrupted.

"Well, she wants to know why Dad's disappeared! This could help!"

"All it does is bring up painful family history!" Trixie shot back.

Abby laid a placating hand on her sister's arm. "Trix, relax. I think we can trust Nancy not to go spilling this everywhere."

"You can be sure I won't," Nancy said as firmly as she could. "If I went around telling everything, I'd be no good as a detective."

"Anyway," Tim continued, ignoring the glare Trixie gave him, "there was another McGreevy child. But when he was born, Mom and Dad couldn't afford to keep him. So they gave him up for adoption. Fortunately, none of the family knew about the pregnancy or the baby, which made giving him up easier.

Mom and Dad never told us or anyone else about him. And Mom apparently wanted to forget, so I guess she and Dad never talked about him in private, either. So he really hadn't been on anyone's minds. But then, a couple of weeks ago, he contacted one of our aunts while trying to dig up info on his biological family. Seems he'll be having his own kid soon and wants medical history. That's understandable."

"Naturally, our aunt assumed it was a hoax," Abby joined in. "But eventually, the whole truth had to come out. When it did, well…things have been interesting since then. Mother doesn't seem to know what she wants from our long-lost brother, so she's been keeping Dad from talking to him as well. And of course, she'd rather we not speak to Kevin either."

"Kevin?" Nancy asked.

"Our brother. Kevin McDonnell, age thirty, married with one kid on the way." Tim supplied helpfully. Trixie, who up to that point had followed the conversation silently, suddenly spoke up.

"She didn't forbid us from it, Abby. She just doesn't want to know if we do. It hurts her too much."

"You mean it messes with her neat, orderly reality that she thinks everyone should adhere to."

"I see," Nancy said slowly. "And you think it's possible your father went off to meet your older brother?"

"Well, it's certainly a possibility, don't you think?" Tim asked. Nancy nodded, her mind already at work on how such a scenario might play out.

"Did he seem interested in contacting your brother?"

"Yes," Trixie replied sullenly. "Even though he knows the pain it will cause Mom." She paused for a moment, eyes flashing. "Of course, it could also be that Dinalto woman."

"What's this?" Tim questioned his younger sister, his eyes wide with shock. Abby, too, looked surprised.

"Well, if you two just listened to Mom and Dad more, especially Mom, you would know." From the tone in Trixie's voice, Nancy got the impression that being the family peacemaker meant Trixie was the one who listened to the elder McGreevys the most, and didn't much care for it at times.

"Sorry, sis. I keep meaning to go over and check up on them, but" Tim shrugged. "You have more patience with Mom than I do, so I find it easier to check with you instead."

"Come on, Trix," Abby coaxed her twin. "What about Dad and Mrs. Dinalto?"

"Well, for starters, it's not what you think. Dad would never cheat on Mom. But…he owes Mrs. Dinalto money, or at least she claims he does. Lots of it. Says he gambled with her husband and lost the bet, then never paid it after Mr. Dinalto died."

"Dad would never! He hated gambling!" Tim protested.

"And even if he did gamble, he wouldn't skip out on a debt!" Abby exclaimed. Trixie regarded her siblings carefully.

"Are you sure?" she inquired slowly. "You two hardly ever visit Mom and Dad anymore…and Dad's been acting edgy about the whole thing lately."

"Well…he seemed okay to me, when I last saw him…" Tim mumbled.

"You last saw him three weeks ago, Tim, what would you know?" Trixie snapped. "And Abby, it's been even longer for you!"

Both siblings shifted in their seats uncomfortably. "Sorry, sis," they mumbled in unison. Nancy wondered how many times they'd had this argument before.

"Well," she broke in carefully, "If your father does owe money to Mrs. Dinalto…about how much would he owe?"

"One hundred thousand dollars," Trixie stated flatly, as her siblings looked at her with open mouths. "More than Mom and Dad could easily afford to pay back."

"Is there any reason your father would gamble such a large amount of money?"

"There's no reason for him to gamble at all!" Tim burst out angrily. Trixie looked at him coolly, before turning her gaze back to Nancy.

"Dad never cared for gambling. But if he did gamble, it'd probably be just so he could get away from Mom now and then, without her knowing his every move. But I don't think he'd gamble more than he could afford."

"Gambling can become an addiction, sis," Abby said softly. "Maybe Dad…got hooked."

"What, so now you're willing to believe me?" Trixie rounded angrily on her twin. "Five minutes ago you swore Dad would never gamble!"

"I thought you wanted me to at least consider the idea! So that's what I'm doing!"

_More trouble in paradise…_Nancy thought to herself wearily. Although the McGreevy children seemed far more likeable than their mother, she was becoming exhausted with the bickering.

"Whether your father would gamble or not is an issue we can visit later," she interrupted quietly. "What will help me find him is figuring out what he would do if he did gamble and did owe such a large debt. You've given me two possible reasons for your father's disappearance. I'd like you to tell me what you think he would do under either set of circumstances."

"Well," Tim began slowly, "if he did owe money…he'd probably go to the bank first, without Mom knowing, to see if he could get a loan…there's no way our parents could afford such a debt otherwise."

"And after that?" Nancy prompted.

He shrugged. "No idea…maybe go talk to Mrs. Dinalto?"

"And if your father went to speak to Kevin, instead?"

"Well….Kevin lives in Omaha, Nebraska. So it would take Dad most of a day to get there, probably. And knowing Dad, he'd take the trip in two days, just to make sure he was alert the whole time."

"Yeah," Abby put in. "Dad's always been a cautious driver…but neither scenario explains why he hasn't gotten in touch with Mom."

Nancy frowned, considering the situation. What Abby had said was true. _Well, that's something I'll just have to keep in mind…_

She was about to ask another question, when Trixie checked her watch. "I've got to go." She stood up, tossing a few bills onto the table. "That should cover my meal and share of the tip. Nice to meet you, Nancy." With a nod to all at the table, Trixie turned on her heel and left the restaurant.

"Well…" said Tim, "I guess…that's all for now. I should probably be going, too."

"Same here," Abby chimed in.

"Alright. I'll call if I have any further questions," Nancy replied. The three stood up, each leaving behind a small amount of money on the table, and moved toward the cashier. Tim insisted on paying, and wouldn't let Nancy give him money to cover her share.

"After all," he told her as she insisted yet again that he let her pay her share, "you're going to find Dad. It's the least I can do."

Resigned, she let him pay the bill. As she walked to her car, she hoped that she could do what Tim McGreevy seemed so certain she would.


	4. Hold the Phone

_**A/N: Kevin McDonnell's address and phone number are, of course, entirely made up, though the area and zip codes for Omaha are legit.**_

**August 3 continued**

The day mostly gone, Nancy decided to investigate the gambling angle as much as she could before the banks closed. Mentally, she ran down the list of banks in River Heights, and decided to visit the Ridge Street Credit Union. It was the optimal starting place for two reasons: it was open an hour later than the other banks, and was also the closest to the McGreevy residence. Though she dreaded even a short visit to the house, Nancy knew she would need a photograph of Hank McGreevy to show around.

Twenty-five minutes later, she walked through the double glass doors of the credit union, and took a spot in line. Within a minute, she was at a counter, facing a skinny, red-headed teller. From the way he fumbled as he greeted her, Nancy wondered if perhaps he was a new employee.

"Excuse me...I wonder if you could tell me if this man applied for a loan here?" Nancy held up a picture of Hank McGreevy that his wife had only been too happy to give to her. "_Anything to help in the search, dear. I just know you'll find my Hank safe and sound." _Nancy tried to avoid grimacing as the woman's words echoed in her head.

"Miss, I'm afraid I can't help you..." The young teller cleared his throat and fumbled with his tie. "Perhaps if you spoke with one of our managers...?"

"Please," Nancy said. "There's no need to talk to a manager...I just need to know if this man came here for any reason."

"Er..." The young man looked nervously about, and then a look of relief came over his face. "Mr. Donatelly! Will you come here for a moment?"

The tall, balding man came over, a frown on his face. "What's the problem, Trevor?"

"She" and Trevor gestured to Nancy, "wants to know if we've had a certain customer in the past few days."

"I see...would you come with me, miss?" Wordlessly, Nancy followed Mr. Donatelly to his office. He turned to face her after he'd closed the door.

"May I ask, miss, if you are associated with any law enforcement agency or court?"

"No...My name is Nancy Drew. I'm an amateur detective hired to find a missing husband."

"I see...well, miss, I'm afraid that I cannot give out client information without the proper paperwork,"

"Please, sir...I just need to know if he was here..."

Mr. Donatelly sighed. "I would like to help you. Truly. But I'm not willing to risk customer security without going through the proper channels."

Disappointed, Nancy nodded, and turned to leave. "I wish you luck," Mr. Donatelly called after her. She left the bank, wondering if every other bank would be just the same. _I guess I'll find out tomorrow, _she mused with a sigh.

That night, while she was updating the McGreevy file on her laptop, the phone rang. Nancy snatched up the receiver, grateful for a break in writing about the McGreevy family grievances.

"Hi, Nan, it's me!"

"Bess! What's up?" Nancy asked as she leaned back in her chair. "How was Phoenix?"

"Great! Well, except for when I tripped in a shop meant for tourists and got cactus needles in my arm."

"Ouch! Are you alright?"

"Oh, I'm fine…and the weather was great! Warm and sunny….and cute guys were always in the forecast."

Nancy laughed. "Do I even have to ask if you met one particular cute guy?"

"Oh, you wouldn't believe it! His name is Carlo, and he was visiting family there, just like my parents and I were…he's adorable, Nancy, you'll have to meet him when he visits!"

"He's visiting?"

"Yes, hopefully. He lives in Colorado…but he thinks he'll be able to come to River Heights to see me within the next month or so. Isn't it great!"

"Yeah…so, tell me more about him."

As she listened to Bess ramble on about her latest beau, Nancy smiled to herself. Bess would probably take an hour or more to relay everything about Carlo, which meant Nancy had gotten the perfect distraction.

**August 4**

The next morning, Nancy set out early to visit the banks of River Heights. She hoped that today would provide better results than yesterday's.

Two hours, and several "we cannot disclose that information" comments later, she gave up. After the most recent rejection, Nancy went back to her car. She leaned casually against casually the blue Mustang, pulled her cell phone from her purse and called Mrs. McGreevy. When the other woman answered, she asked if the McGreevys shared bank accounts. "Why, no, dear...Hank always understood that I needed a shopping fund...so we got separate accounts."

"I see...thank you." Nancy let out a frustrated growl as she hung up the phone. So much for that plan...Grimly, she punched in the number that would patch her straight to Chief McGinnis. It looked like River Heights PD might need to get involved after all.

"River Heights Police, Chief McGinnis speaking."

"Hi, Chief."

"Nancy!" Chief McGinnis was clearly surprised to hear from her this early. "How's the case going?"

"I need your help."

"Nancy, I would love to help, but I can't offer any officers to-"

"Chief, I can't investigate whether or not Hank McGreevy disappeared because he skipped out on a gambling debt unless I can get information from the banks. They can't give that kind of information to me."

"I'll see what I can do. In the meantime, I take it you'll follow up on other leads?"

"Of course. Thanks, Chief."

Nancy hung up, and debated what to do next. She could interview Mrs. Dinalto…or contact Kevin McDonnell. After such a frustrating time pursuing the gambling option, she decided it might be best for her sanity to switch tacks and pursue the McDonnell angle.

She reached into her purse and pulled out Tim McGreevy's phone number. Quickly, she dialed the number into her cell phone. When the young man answered, Nancy got straight to the point.

"It's Nancy Drew. Do you have any contact information for your brother?"

"Sure, give me a moment." There was a pause, during which Nancy withdrew a notepad and pen from her purse, then "Okay, here it is. Kevin McDonnell, 62 Third Street, Omaha Nebraska, 68142. Home phone is 402-555-1013 and cell phone is 402-555-1121."

"Got it," Nancy said as she scribbled the information down. "Thanks a lot, Tim."

"No problem. Good luck finding Dad."

They exchanged goodbyes, and Nancy hung up. Immediately, she punched in the home phone number for Kevin McDonnell.

The phone on the other end rang several times before a young woman answered. Nancy introduced herself and explained why she was calling.

"Well…Kevin isn't in town right now…he's at a teaching conference at Bradley University in Peoria, Illinois. Maybe you can reach him there. I could give you his cell phone number, if you like…"

"I already have it, but thank you. I'll try that next."

The conversation ended, and Nancy found herself punching in yet another phone number. She growled as a voicemail system kicked in. She left a brief message, hung up, and paused to think. She was now back at the same spot she'd been a short time ago.

At that moment, her stomach rumbled loudly, and Nancy decided it was lunchtime. Thinking about the case would be easier on a full stomach, and hers was feeling emptier as the seconds passed. She got into her Mustang and drove home, eager to learn what Hannah had cooked for lunch.

Lunch turned out to be fettuccini alfredo and salad, which Nancy devoured rapidly. Afterward, she helped Hannah with the dishes, before going upstairs to update the McGreevy file and decide her next move.

Just like the night before, however, the phone rang before she finished updating the file. Hoping it was Kevin McDonnell, returning her call, or maybe Chief McGinnis with some information for her, Nancy answered on the first ring.

The caller on the other end was not Kevin McDonnell. Nor was it Chief McGinnis. It was, however, someone Nancy knew well.

"Hi, Nancy..."

"Hi, Frank..." she said slowly, switching the phone to her other shoulder. "Is there a case? Joe in trouble as usual?"

Frank laughed at the other end. "No, Joe's fine...I just wanted to let you know that I've finished high school finally - though I won't officially graduate until December."

"That's great!" Nancy exclaimed. "I know it bothered you to be in the same grade as Joe...of course, I admit I didn't help, making fun of you for it sometimes when you complained about him distracting you in class by acting up..."

"Don't remind me," Frank replied. "My high school days are over, and I no longer need to worry about that. Unless he follows me to college..."

"And then I'll get another chance to laugh at you."

"That's cruel, Nancy," Frank joked. "You've really hurt me with that."

"Oh, I'm sure...so how is Joe, anyway?"

"Well, upset that I'm homework-free at the moment and he's not...though he reminded me that now I have to wait for school to be out to see Callie during the day."

"...How is Callie?" Nancy asked after an awkward pause.

"She's fine. Van's fine too, before you ask. What about Ned?"

"Oh...well..."

"Everything okay between you two?" Frank asked, apparently noticing her reluctance to mention her boyfriend.

She sighed into the phone. "Yes...no...I don't know."

"Want to tell me about it?"

"It's just the usual complaint. We'll work it out."

"Doesn't sound like you're so sure of that."

"We've made it to the three-year mark...I can think we can manage to sort through this."

"Three years? You've been dating that long already? Wow...that means my anniversary with Callie is coming up soon."

"I know...found a gift yet?"

"No...you're a woman, Nancy - any advice?"

"Frank, you know Callie and I aren't great friends...more like...friendly acquaintances. You're better off asking Vanessa for advice on that."

"I still don't understand why you and Callie don't get along better..." Frank ventured, sounding puzzled.

"Well..." Nancy paused, trying to think of how best to explain things. She couldn't just point out that she and Callie were barely friends for the same reasons Frank and Ned acted the way they did around each other...that would bring up the topic she and Frank had resolved to ignore: the spark between them. "Maybe we're just...too similar."

"If you say so…" Frank sounded as though he doubted her, but let the topic drop. "So, what's new in River Heights? Any new cases?"

"Yes, actually. A missing person, one Hank McGreevy. His wife reported him missing after less than a day, since she says he never leaves the house without telling her where he's going, or leaving a note. It's been a couple of days now, and he's still missing, but I have some possible leads."

"Anything Joe and I can help with?"

"No, I think I've got it covered right now…but if I need help, I'll let you know."

"Alright."

They chatted for a few minutes more, and then Nancy hung up. Her head was beginning to ache from being on the phone so often. Ignoring the slight throb, she resolved to get the file entirely up-to-date without interruption. Once she completed that, she would try to reach Kevin McDonnell again, and also call Chief McGinnis to see if he had any information for her yet. After that…she would track down and interview Mrs. Dinalto.


	5. Baseless Accusations

_**A special "Thank you!" to rosa lunae, who kindly agreed to guest-beta this chapter!**_

**August 4 continued**

"Hello?" Nancy rapped sharply on the door with her knuckles, and peered through the window to see if she could catch a glimpse of anyone inside.

"Mrs. Dinalto?" There was no answer from inside, no sign that anyone was coming to answer the door. Nancy looked again for a doorbell button, but there was none. So she stood and listened for a moment. Were those footsteps inside the house? She crossed her fingers hopefully, and waited. After a moment or two more of standing on the porch, Nancy growled in frustration and turned to walk down the steps.

She had nearly reached the main sidewalk when she heard the sound of the door opened. "Hello?" called out a sweet woman's voice from behind her. "Did you knock on my door?"

"Yes!" Nancy called back, already turning and beginning the climb back up the steps. She waited until she was face-to-face on the porch with the woman before speaking again. "My name's Nancy Drew. Are you Mrs. Dinalto?"

"Yes, I am Irene Dinalto...can I help you with something?"

Nancy barely suppressed her shock. _This is the woman that Trixie was so angry at?_ she wondered, staring at the little elderly lady in front of her. Mrs. Dinalto was a plump, gray-haired woman with ruddy cheeks and an inviting smile. Certainly not the type of person Nancy expected to be accusing others of gambling debts.

"Mrs. Dinalto, I'm here to ask you some questions, if that's alright...I was hired by the McGreevy family to look into the disappearance of Mr. McGreevy."

"Oh..." Mrs. Dinalto's expression deepened into something Nancy couldn't quite read. It seemed an odd mixture of fear and sorrow. "Come in, then."

The shorter woman led Nancy into a cramped living room, and indicated that Nancy sit on one of the squashy leather couches in there. Nancy pulled out her notebook as soon as Mrs. Dinalto had seated herself across from Nancy.

"Mrs. Dinalto, I'd like to ask you about the money you claim the McGreevy family owes you."

To Nancy's surprise, the woman's face crumpled and tears filled her eyes. "I wish I'd never accused Hank of that" Mrs. Dinalto whispered.

"Ma'am?"

Mrs. Dinalto dried her eyes with a handkerchief, and coughed. "Hank McGreevy never owed my husband any money...I hope his disappearance isn't because of what I said..."

"What did you say?"

"I accused him of trying to hide the truth...I threatened him that I would seek legal action if he didn't pay me the money this week...but I was lying."

"I think, perhaps, that you should start at the beginning..."

"Y-yes. Alright."

Mrs. Dinalto took a deep breath. "It all started about a year ago...when my husband Liam fell ill...Hank was one of his frequent poker buddies. He came over every week to play cards with Liam, and even visited Liam in the hospital when we learned he had inoperable cancer..."

"Anyway..." Mrs. Dinalto sighed. "Liam and I were both retirees. I tried to find work, to help pay for the hospital bills, and did get a secretarial job...but it wasn't enough money. Our savings were rapidly being used up, and when Liam died...the funeral costs sent me into bankruptcy."

"Couldn't your family help you out?" Nancy asked. Mrs. Dinalto shook her head. "Both Liam and I were only children...and we had no children of our own."

"So you decided to turn to extortion." Nancy said flatly.

The older woman's lack of response was all the confirmation Nancy needed. Briefly, she allowed herself to feel a tiny pang of pity before she sighed. "You realize, of course, that Chief McGinnis needs to know this right away."

Mrs. Dinalto nodded, though she looked rather apprehensive about it. She reached for a cordless phone lying on the end table near the arm of the couch. "I'll do it now," she said in a choked voice, "and then I suppose I'd best call Irma and apologize."

Nancy nodded. "That would probably be best." She stood and said her goodbyes as Mrs. Dinalto nodded rather distractedly, already dialing the number.

Walking out to her car, Nancy pulled her notebook from her purse, and scratched Mrs. Dinalto off the suspect list. "So much for that," she muttered. Logically, she knew it was a good thing that she'd eliminated the Dinalto angle this early in the case, but at the moment she wasn't too pleased.

She tried dialing Kevin McDonnell's cell phone number again, but once more reached the voice mail. "He's even worse about his cell phone than I am," she grumbled angrily. With a sigh, she decided to stop by the River Heights Police Department to see if Chief McGinnis and his men had had any better luck than her. And, now that she thought about it, she still needed proof that she was allowed to question banks to see if Hank McGreevy had withdrawn money lately. _'Though with Mrs. Dinalto's lie revealed,'_ she mused miserably, _'there's not much reason to look into that now.'_

The River Heights Police Department was a bustling center of activity. Though Nancy spotted several officers she knew by name, and called out greetings, the officers in question had little time to do more than nod in response. She could see Chief McGinnis was on the phone in his office, so she waited until he was through before rapping on the door politely.

"Nancy! Come on in!"

"Hi, Chief. Any new developments on the McGreevy case?"

Chief McGinnis shook his head. "No. I'd say we know just as much as you do right now, Nancy. I just finished speaking with Irene Dinalto. A rather sad story, and now the woman may face charges for it. She'll be coming down later to officially record the story. I really need to thank you for clearing that angle up."

"To be honest, Chief, I'm surprised your men didn't interview her sooner."

The Chief sighed and shook his head. "We've been swamped lately, Nancy. That's part of the reason we called you in. Also, she refused my men entry to the house."

"I see…" Briefly, Nancy considered offering her help on whatever other cases the department might be working on, but Chief McGinnis seemed to read her mind and frowned at her.

"One case is enough for now, Nancy. If we need your help when this McGreevy investigation is wrapped up, then we'll use you."

Nancy blushed. "Sorry, Chief. I guess my curiosity just gets the better of me sometimes."

"So I noticed," he remarked dryly. "Now," he said, his voice reverting back to a business-like manner. "Have you had any luck on your end?"

She shook her head. "But I've been thinking that if you'd gotten the paperwork necessary for me to go to the banks and interview them…it probably won't do any good, since Hank McGreevy knew he didn't owe money to the Dinaltos, but…"

"Better to be certain, right?"

Nancy nodded, and the Chief handed her a manila folder. "This should have all you need to make the banks cooperate with you. Good luck."

Since she'd only called in that morning to ask for this paperwork, she knew he'd rushed it through. She smiled warmly at him. "Thanks, Chief." Nancy almost walked out the office before turning. "Any luck reaching Kevin McDonnell?"

The Chief shook his head. "No. But then…"

"This case is mostly mine, right Chief?" Nancy finished, with a smile.

"Exactly. See you later."

Nancy left the River Heights Police Department with new determination.

Nancy's first stop was the Ridge Street Credit Union. _I must have made quite the impression_, she thought with a grim smile, as she noticed Trevor the teller pick up his desk phone. Within minutes, Mr. Donatelly was striding toward her.

"Miss Drew," he began, as soon as he was within speaking distance, "as I told you before, we cannot give out client information unless-"

"Unless I have the proper paperwork," Nancy finished, coolly. She extended the manila folder to him. "Is this all you need?"

"Well, I…" Mr. Donatelly took the folder and began flipping through it, nervously. "Y-yes," he said a few minutes later. "That does seem to be in order. Now, what exactly do you need?"

Nancy produced the picture Hank McGreevy again. "I need to find out if this man came here recently. Within the last week or so. He may or may not have applied for a loan."

"Of course. We keep security footage of the past 100 days before wiping the tapes. Let me just escort you to our security office, and you can watch the footage for him while I speak with our loan advisors."

"Thank you." Nancy smiled warmly and allowed Mr. Donatelly to lead her to the security office, a small room hidden behind a heavy door. Inside were several cameras, showing images of the area both inside and outside the bank. Watching the cameras was a portly, red-faced man who was leaning back in his chair. When Mr. Donatelly and Nancy entered, he sat upright immediately, nearly tipping over in the process.

"Mr. Donatelly, sir! What can I do for you?" he asked, obviously distressed at the appearance of the manager.

"Mark, this is Nancy Drew. She needs to look over our security tapes from the past week."

"But, sir…doesn't she need some sort of police or court paperwork for that?"

"I have it here," Nancy said, holding up the manila folder. Mr. Donatelly had returned it to her during their walk to the security office.

"Oh…oh. That's okay then, I guess. Um…" Mark cast a nervous glance about the office. "Have a seat over there," he pointed to a small desk tucked in the corner of the room, with a computer sitting atop it. "I'll get the tapes for you."

"Why do you still call them tapes?" Nancy asked a few minutes later, after Mark had pulled several DVDs from a locked filing cabinet. He shrugged.

"Habit, I guess. Some places still use VHS tapes, despite the fact they wear out faster, and are easier to damage. We only recently switched over to the DVDs ourselves." He spread the disks out on the desk before her. "Here you go. Everything from July 29 until yesterday. We don't remove the disks from the cameras until the end of the today, so I can't offer you today's"

"That's fine. This should work." Briefly, she wondered if she shouldn't have asked for tapes from even earlier, but decided against it for now. _'If I have to, it's not like it'll be too hard to ask,'_ she thought.

"Great. You can just load 'em into the computer's DVD drive. They would work like any other disk."

After an hour, Nancy was more than ready to call at quits. She felt a new sympathy for police offers and FBI agents that needed to do this on a regular basis. Looking for one person among the many who would've entered the credit union…she stifled a groan. She wasn't even done with the first day yet, and already her eyes were tired from the strain of staring intently at the screen.

It was with a sigh of relief that she turned around when Mark tapped her on the shoulder after an hour and a half to announce that the credit union was closing. "Found your guy, yet?" he asked her as her placed the DVDs back into the file cabinet and locked it. She shook her head.

"For all I know, he may not have even stopped here," she admitted. "My gut instinct says that he didn't. But I can't just go on instinct alone. I need to be sure he wasn't here."

"Well, I wish you luck. Sounds like a tough case."

Nancy smiled. "Thanks."

As she left the credit union, Nancy once again tried calling Kevin McDonnell. Once again, she reached his voicemail. "Mr. McDonnell, this is Nancy Drew again. I would appreciate it if you would return my call as soon as you're able." _'Does this man ever use his cell phone?'_ Nancy wondered, as she hung up.

Less than a minute later, the phone rang. For a moment, Nancy hoped it was the elusive Kevin McDonnell was calling. But as the ringing continued, Nancy recognized the ringtone as the one she used for Ned.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Nan. How's the case?"

She sighed over the phone. "Slow going. It would be so much easier to crack if I could just get ahold of Hank McGreevy's other son. But I'm beginning to think he's the type that only carries a cell phone because it might be needed eventually."

"Sounds rough."

"Yeah, that's what Frank said when-"

"Frank Hardy?" Ned interrupted her.

"Yeah, why?"

"Never mind." Ned's voice was flat on the other end. Nancy rolled her eyes. Why did he always get touchy at the mention of Frank Hardy? Didn't he know he was the only guy for her? "So," Ned said slowly. "How is Frank, anyway?"

"He _and_ Joe," she replied, emphasizing the "and" to remind him there were two Hardy brothers she interacted with on a regular basis, "are fine. Frank actually just finished high school."

"Good for him."

"Ned, he asked me for advice on what to get Callie for their anniversary. There's nothing to be jealous about."

"Who said anything about being jealous?"

"I can tell by your tone. You always get like this anymore if I mention Frank."

"If you ask me, you're jumping to conclusions."

"Ned!"

"Well, you just assumed that I'm jealous, didn't you? Even though I was asking perfectly normal, polite questions."

"But your tone was-"

"What you interpreted it to be."

"Fine. I'm sorry. You're not jealous."

"Thank you."

For several minutes, there was nothing but silence. Finally, Nancy spoke again. "If neither of us has anything more to say…"

"Right. I'll talk to you later Nancy. Enjoy your case." And with a _click_, Ned hung up. Nancy stared at the phone in her hand, feeling a mix of anger and pain wash over her. _What's going on with us?_ she thought sadly. She and Ned had had their rough spots…but things had never been quite so up-and-down as they felt right now.

With a sigh, she turned the phone off, and shoved it in her purse. _Might as well head home._


End file.
